Reading Into Nothing
by Schizzar
Summary: Clint is reading too much into their relationship. He knows he is. He should probably stop. Maybe he will. Wade Wilson/Clint Barton


**This fic was inspired by deadpool-corps on tumblr. He and throughahawkseyes keep shipping Clint/Deadpool so I really wanted to try my hand at it. Apologies if Deadpool is freakishly out of character, first time trying to write him. Possible spoilers? I don't know though. I don't own Marvel characters, yada yada, reviews are loved. **

Clint eased his way closer to the edge of the rooftop, easing his arm back as his target was locked into his sights. It was an easy mission, and the guy was a low-level threat, a bomb maker for some terrorist group he really didn't give two shits about. SHIED gave him a target, he took it out, did a boring debriefing, end of-

His target reeled back, then fell on his ass and began to flail his arms. Clint ground his teeth together, his gut sinking in suspicion as he fired a grappling hook arrow at the other roof. By the time he swung over and climbed inside the window, his target was lying on the floor, bleeding out from a slashed throat.

"Really, again? That's the fifth time this month!" Clint slung his bow over his shoulder, resisting the urge to tackle the idiot merc standing above his now dead target.

Deadpool glanced around the room as he sheathed the bloody knife, then finally looked at Clint. "Oh, you're talking about me?"

"Do we have to go through this every time?" Clint asked.

"You seem to like the way our encounters turn out," Deadpool said.

"Jesus, Wade, I don't have time for this," Clint said, heading back towards the window he had crawled through. "Fury's going to have my head as is when he found out I got out done by you again. And how the hell do you keep getting hired to take out the same targets as me?" His curiosity had him turning to face the merc once more, even though he knew it would be better if he just left.

Deadpool scuffed his heel against the ground, somehow managing to look sheepish through the mask. "Maybe I'm just trying to express my affection for you by helping you with your work?"

Clint sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Try working with SHIELD then."

"Fury is mean," Deadpool said.

"Look, Wade, you're making my life more difficult killing my targets," Clint said. "And how do you even find any of that out?"

Deadpool shrugged. "I have friends in high places. Do you really not want me around?"

Clint frowned and leaned against the wall, then looked down to see the target still bleeding out on the floor. "This isn't really the time to be having this conversation. Can we talk later?"  
"When? The only time we meet up anymore is when I'm killing your targets and pissing you off."

"And you sound damn proud of that. Besides, ever since the first time you tried to join SHIELD, and messed up, Fury doesn't want to see you around, and I don't feel like aggravating him," Clint said. "So maybe if you tried _behaving-_"

"Not happening," Wade said. "Too boring." Wade crossed the space between them, nuzzling the archer's neck and practically purring. "Come on, let's have a little fun before you leave."

Clint shoved him away. "I don't have time. Think you can sneak to my apartment without anyone seeing you?"

"There's a reason SHIELD hasn't caught me yet," Wade said, maneuvering past Clint and hopping out the window without pause.

Clint rubbed his eyes and sighed. Why he was pursuing a relationship with such a...volatile character as Wade Wilson was beyond him, but the man had some kind of charm that just drew him in and didn't let him go. It was infuriating. But he'd pursue it anyways because really? What the hell.

-.-

In all honesty, he expected Wade to break into his apartment, via the window, or pick his lock. He did not expect a calm knock at the door, followed by Wade standing in front of him with an enormously dorky grin on his face, and dressed in civilian clothes.

"Um, Wade?"  
"SHIELD doesn't know what I look like, especially now that I've gotten myself all patched up," he said, pushing his way into the apartment.

"Which...I am grateful for," Clint said, shutting the door and leaning against it as Wade stretched out on his couch. "Not to sound shallow or-"

Wade grinned. "Oh I know I've got a gorgeous face, you don't need to tell me. So, let's have that talk. Come and sit down, Hawkass."

"I'll pass," Clint said, folding his arms over his chest. "You'll just seduce me and I won't be able to yell at you for pissing me off and making my life difficult. Can't have that."

His words only made Wade grin wider. "I certainly would have you yelling, but it probably wouldn't be what you had in mind."

"Exactly my point," Clint said, smiling despite himself. "So, why are you butting into all my jobs? Is it really because you don't think I'm paying enough attention to you? Because that so isn't my fault."

Wade shrugged as he kicked his feet up onto the low coffee table. "What do we even have, Barton?"

Clint frowned. "I don't know. I was assuming it was a relationship."

"Me too, and I don't even do relationships," Wade said with another shrug. "I'm unreliable. I don't think you're going to want me around, even if I like being around you."

"The sex is good," Clint said, heart fluttering a bit when it provoked an honest laugh out of the other assassin. "And I'm an assassin too, Wade. I'm used to...unreliable."

"So then what are we?"

Clint shrugged. "I'm open to suggestions."

"Here's one. Two hot guys that bang each other on a semi-regular basis. And share a beer or two, maybe watch some shitty reality shows and yell at the screen," Wade said. "Just don't get pissed when I leave."

"When?" Clint asked. It wasn't accusing. It's just, the word was very telling in how Wade viewed their relationship, and given that this was the first honest talk they had ever had, he didn't want to miss any insight he could have into the merc's head.

"Well, I like you, quite a bit more than most people," Wade said. "But I always leave eventually. Conflict of interests, you know."

"Yeah. But I'm a grown up, I won't get attached. Kind of offended that you think I would," Clint said. "But if you want my attention, just stop by the apartment and stop fucking with my missions."

Wade grinned and got to his feet, nimbly jumping over the table and shoving Clint against the wall. "Oh, permission to be in your apartment, I like this." He licked at Clint's ear, and the archer couldn't resist shuddering against the merc.

It didn't take long for Wade to lure him into the bedroom, and even as the assassin fucked into him, doing his best to blur out all rational thoughts, Clint couldn't help but wonder what had even drawn him to the man in the first place. He was all chaos and disruption, never sitting still, rarely letting his thoughts connect for longer than-

A harsh bite on his collarbone, unexpected, dragged him out of his thoughts and his hips jerked up, forcing him to take the other man deeper.

Maybe that was what he liked. He was always so worried about being in control, and this man just ripped it right from him, and so few people did that any-

Blunt nails scraped down his side as Wade nipped at his jaw, slowing down the rhythm a bit so he could slam into the pliant body beneath him all the harder. Clint's eyes rolled as his jaw went slack, hips stuttering up against the merc's. He was so close, so close, so-

Most people were warded off by how seriously he took most missions. No one really stuck around long enough to see how playful he could be, how snarky. No one but Wade. Maybe it was because the man was fearless, or just didn't care enough. He thought Clint was hot, so he dragged him to bed, end of story. He was simply indulging himself, and Clint as well. Really he had nothing to complain about but-

Wade's hand fisted his cock roughly, once, twice, until he spilled over with a shuddering gasp, a shout. It didn't take much longer for Wade to finish within him, rocking against him through both their orgasms until they were folded in on one another, panting in the afterglow.

Maybe he wanted something more. Someone close. Wade wasn't that person, they had discussed that already. There was no way he was going to change Wade after all, tame his insanity. He'd just have to accept what they were. Bedmates. They'd never be teammates. He could never depend on Wade for more important things.

Wade rubbed against him, nibbling at his ear as he began to harden once more. The merc had an uncontrollable libido sometimes (all the time). He groaned and kissed the other man's neck in response, bumping their hips together to say that yes, it was okay, they could keep going.

Wade was the closest thing he had to a friend these days. For now, that was enough.


End file.
